No More Fooling Around
by Peter Simons
Summary: In the aftermath of the events of Season 3, Chief Engineer Charles Tucker and Science Officer T'Pol discover how to deal with unresolved sexual tension in a constructive way.


**No More Fooling Around**

**Summary:** In the aftermath of the events of Season 3, Chief Engineer Charles Tucker and Science Officer T'Pol discover how to deal with unresolved sexual tension in a constructive way.

**Author's Notes:** This story has been written for the Endless Summer Hiatus Challenge of the Trip/T'Polers web site. According to the rules, it had to begin with the sentence this story begins with and it had to contain all of the following words: lover, children, sward, candles, desert, pasta, Mars, trepidation, banshee, and katydid. I'd like to thank **Clicks** for her proof-reading and for making many good suggestions about the text. You have been very helpful! Last but not least, I dedicate this story — as promised — to **Stubadingdong**, the Queen of Smut. :-)

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**Vulcans do not experience fear, or so they have convinced the rest of the universe.** But Trip knew better than that. Because there was one scared Vulcan sitting half a meter away from him. Her voice was uneven while she read the poem out loud to him. At first, he had thought that she just had trouble translating the Vulcan poetry to English, and that was why she sounded so unlike herself tonight.

»_**Children**, get off the **sward** and back to the **desert**! You will unwittingly become the **banshee** of an unsuspecting **katydid**._ — _**Trepidation** is an emotion, Mother._«

»Wait, I don't get that, T'Pol. Does the _katydid_ stand for something in Vulcan mythology? I mean, Surak is not really concerned about the animal life here, right?«

»That is correct, Commander. The scene is a metaphor for a more general dilemma. Let me continue the reading, it will become clearer in the next passage.«

»Good.«

»_Tok, Tazar, do not take the life of a small creature lightly. It is illogical to …_«

But it wasn't just her voice. It was also her body language. Just to test a theory, he had moved a few inches closer to her earlier, and she had promptly backed away — so she was afraid of _him_!

Then why had she invited him here? Why was she reading Surak to him, in her quarters, in a room lit with **candles**, clad in her usual, incredibly sexy civilian clothes, if she was afraid of him?

»_… thus it follows that to disregard the life of a being on the grounds of it not being sentient equals …_«

Or was she really afraid of what _she_ might do? It was bizarre to even think along this line … but then, he _had been_ her **lover** before, in these quarters, on a night like this. Clearly she had a significant capacity for bodily pleasures — so why not? Why was it absurd to even think along that line?

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T'Pol was relieved after she had finished reading the text to him. And the very realization almost made her blush. She was a mess! She had _barely_ managed to translate the text well enough for it to make any sense, even. As a matter of fact, it probably didn't. She, at least, had no idea what it was about.

For two hours she had sat in her quarters before his arrival and had thought about what she was going to do. But when he _had_ arrived, she had been so surprised that she hadn't even selected a text yet! So she had just chosen the very first thing she found when opening the Teachings of Surak.

She realized her control lay in tatters. She was far more emotional than she had been in a long time. She _knew_ it. And she had known this would happen when she invited Trip to her quarters. And she had done it nonetheless. The truth was: She had _wanted_ to feel these emotions she felt right now. She yearned for them.

The last time she had given in to her desire, she had injected Trellium-D into her bloodstream — and it had been the most horrible mistake she had ever made.

So what was this? Was it a mistake?

She could not focus. She realized, she had been sitting there, saying nothing, for a significant amount of time! Frankly, she had no idea what to say.

»Did you enjoy the metaphor, Commander?«

»What an odd question to ask, T'Pol.«

»Why is that?«

»I wouldn't have expected that you cared what I _enjoy_ or not.«

»Of course I care.«

Oh my, did I really say that?

»You do?«

»It … um.«

WHAT?

»It falls within my duties to ensure that the crew is … Why do you laugh?«

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Hehehehe! He would give his right arm for a picture of THAT expression on her face! You have just made a bad mistake, lady, and you know it.

»Nothing, I am just touched that you care, T'Pol.«

»That makes you laugh?«

»I am _very_ touched.«

»Don't overestimate the importance of—«

»Of course not, Subcommander. I know, you are just performing your duties.«

She hesitated a moment before she answered.

»Right.«

»This cultural exchange really means something to me, T'Pol. You know, I enjoy your company a lot. It has been too long since we were together on a quiet night like this.«

He tried to look her in the eyes while saying that last sentence, but she avoided his gaze.

»I am uncertain what you refer to, Commander.«

»I would like to return the gesture, T'Pol. I would like to show you something from Human culture. It is a ritual not unlike neuro-pressure: it is also designed to relax and calm the participants. It is called a _massage_.«

»I know what a massage is, Commander.«

»Have you ever gotten one?«

»No.«

»Then you should.«

»Do you believe this is appropriate?«

»What is inappropriate about it?«

She looked him in the eyes now. He could see that she searched his face for answers; for a long time she was silent.

»Proceed.«

She hadn't even blinked. No trace of an emotion was on her face. She was 100 percent controlled. Slowly she laid down on the floor, face down on a small pillow, which she grabbed from her bunk. She was rigid.

Trip grinned inwardly at her unusual shyness. She hadn't even taken her top off, like she would during neuro-pressure. Apparently she didn't expect a medical procedure like neuro-pressure was, so she thought it was necessary to cover her decency or something. And she damn sure was right. His interest was carnal, not clinical.

He knelt down besides her and rubbed his palms together for a short moment to warm them up. Then he laid them on her shoulders and reached for her neck with his fingertips. Carefully he applied pressure with his fingers, he moved them down her neck in slow kneading motions, and finally met them with his thumbs to knead and massage her shoulder muscles gently.

He repeated the movement three times until she _finally_ relaxed and began to breathe again.

So he rubbed his palms together again and massaged her neck once more, but now that her muscles were loose, he would apply much more force. He could see immediately that she loved it: her eyes were closed, her face was completely relaxed. She hadn't looked like this in ages! And by god, she was beautiful when she looked peaceful like this.

Slowly his hands wandered down her back while his fingers continued to massage her flesh and muscles. He marveled at the way her touch felt through the silk she wore. Keeping her top on had been a great idea, actually!

»The procedure is indeed very relaxing, Commander.«

»I am glad you enjoy it, T'Pol. I care about what you do and don't enjoy, too. I hope you know that?«

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She knew it was a trap. Commander Tucker always did this to her! She could not deny that he cared for her — it would be very impolite to do so. But if she concurred, she would implicitly confirm that she enjoyed his ministrations!

He put her into those situations on purpose. She _knew_ it.

So what now?

She had to be logical. The most important thing right now was that he continued the massage. Because it felt wonderful.

»I know, Trip.«

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Her straight, honest answer perplexed him thoroughly. Had she really just admitted what he thought she did? T'Pol sure was full of surprises. He loved that about her. The more he thought about the events so far, the more he began to warm up to the idea. First Chef's great **pasta** for dinner, now a shapely Vulcan for dessert — sounded like a perfect night! Why not?

They had done it before, and it had complicated their relationship significantly. What would happen if they did it again? If they slept with each other, right now, right here? He had no idea what he felt for her. It was a dangerously volatile mixture of things. They probably shouldn't do it.

»Why don't you continue the massage?«

But who gave a shit? The very thought that he was playing with _fire_ aroused him. They shouldn't do it. He knew it. She knew it. And they didn't give a shit. Because they _both_ wanted it.

Very carefully he placed his right hand by her thighs and stroked his fingertips over them, right at the fold between her thighs and ass cheeks. The gentle touch caused her body to shiver, and Trip couldn't help but grin smugly while he caressed her through the silk of her panties.

Since she clearly approved, he pressed his thumb into her left and his other fingers into her right ass cheek, right above the thighs, grabbed her flesh fiercely, and began to massage it slowly until her pelvis followed his direction in unconscious movements; then he placed both of his hands firmly onto her ass cheeks and massaged them with vigor. His fingers wandered over her flesh, slowly finding their way back to her thighs.

For a moment he caressed the backside of her thighs again, waiting for some kind of reaction from her. It came in form of a soft moan accompanied by her opening her thighs slightly. The moan repeated itself much louder when he moved his thumbs to the inside of her thighs in slow circles, which he playfully drew closer and closer to her crotch.

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His touch was electrifying. His fingers moved in a way that was incredibly suggestive. He oozed desire through his fingers into her bloodstream, and it found her wide receptive. She could simply not lie still — his fingers always made her feel as if she lay wrong, as if she could find bliss if she moved his touch a fraction of an inch. Suddenly his thumbs stroked along her crotch at the sides of her labia, and it felt completely unexpected. She let out a gasp in surprise at how the silk of her panties caressed her sex under his touch. It felt wonderful!

She had experienced great conflict because of her desires. But in this moment, she couldn't care less about what her heritage dictated. What did it matter if they were intimate? Logic simply couldn't judge her for her emotions, nobody could! She had been through enough. She needed to feel this, she simply wanted to. Where was the logic in denying herself that wish? They _both_ wanted it.

»Turn around.«

She turned her head to look at him. Then she slowly spun her body around, too, all the while keeping her eyes locked on his face. He returned her gaze the entire time, as she settled down on her back. When she lay comfortably, she closed her eyes and just gave in.

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Without hesitation he placed his right hand flat over her sex and gently rubbed the silk of her panties against it. To his delight, T'Pol dug her fingernails into the floor for an instant in an attempt to gain leverage, then she pushed herself downwards to increase the pressure.

The moment was intense. They looked into each other's eyes, while they realized the intoxicating intimacy of their position. They both could smell that particular smell in the air. They both could hear their quick breathing, they both could see each other's wide eyes. They both knew what they wanted to do. For all their differences and their problems, there were moments when they communicated _extremely_ well.

Her head fell back on the pillow when his right hand resumed its massage of her crotch. He made sure to apply sufficient force. He remembered very well that she liked things rough. His back had been a testament to this fact.

He leaned forward and grabbed her left breast with his free hand. It felt amazing! He involuntarily closed his eyes and focused on the amazing sensation of touching her beautiful body at her most intimate parts — through silk, no less. It was enticing. He could feel how his consciousness drifted away, he noticed how all other sensation but her writhing body vanished. He no longer acted on purpose, he became one with her movements. He reacted to her as much as she did to him, and without knowing his fondling and massaging drove them higher in unison, until T'Pol suddenly arched her back, snapped her thighs shut, and clamped them together hard with his hand stuck in-between. He dug his fingers fiercely into her sex while she rocked her pelvis around in sharp movements. A low moan escaped her throat, and then she relaxed and just lay there with closed eyes.

Trip glowed with smug satisfaction at the sight. It was immensely arousing to see her come by his touch. He felt _powerful_. Masculine. Like a god of old, almost. **Mars**, or whatever his name was … the Roman god of war. Yeah, that was him, he thought with a chuckle. Then another thought occurred to him: He had better make use of his power while he had it!

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When she heard him pull down the zipper of his tunic, a _No!_ raced through her mind instantaneously. It was followed by an itch between her legs, a cramp in her stomach, and a massive shiver radiating through her body from her groin. _Yes!_ She had _wanted_ to feel like this; this was why she had invited him here; and, by Surak, she would do it and DAMN the consequences!

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He kept his eyes looked onto her while taking his clothes off, he admired her body with awe. She writhed slightly with closed eyes. Her fingers were spread wide open while her hands wandered around on the floor helplessly. It looked as if she wanted to touch herself but didn't dare to, because she waited for him. She looked _hot_!

When he was finally naked, he moved over, and slowly knelt down between her legs. She opened them without hesitation to make room for him, and once she had, that intoxicating smell increased even further. Trip was drawn to it. It smelled like something specifically designed to pull him to its source — and in a way it was. He crouched known and brought his face close to her sex. He closed his eyes and inhaled deeply, then he pressed his nose into her sex through the silk and inhaled again, even more deeply than before. He wanted _more_!

Oblivious to her movements, he pushed his hands into her panties, pressed his fingertips into the flesh next to her labia, and resumed his massage. He teased her with his fingertips; then suddenly pushed hard into the sensitive spot to evoke a moan, then massaged her again, and it wasn't long until there was a distinct wet spot visible on her panties. Playfully his fingers pulled her labia open underneath the silk and softly caressed them on their insides.

T'Pol tensed up awkwardly when he brought his tongue down on her sex. He licked over her crotch through the silk, enthralled by her incredible alien smell. She tasted like _sin_, plain and simple. With enthusiasm he licked over her clitoris, he moved it around with his tongue, licked over it from the sides and the top, and when he knew where it was, he bit down on it playfully. Accompanied by a groan, she jerked her lower body away, shivered, then instinctively brought her crotch back to his face. He grabbed her ass cheeks fiercely with his hands, holding her lower body in place this time, and repeated his treatment of her clitoris. He licked over it through her panties and savored the enticing taste and smell of the drenched silk on his tongue. When he bit down on her again, T'Pol made the most unexpected and alien sound he had ever heard from her — then her thighs cramped shut once more; she trapped his head between her legs so fiercely that she almost snapped his neck with her movements!

Trip was just starting to fear that he would black out from the lack of oxygen, when she finally relaxed her hold on him and allowed him to breathe. Not that she looked as if she would have cared, had she suffocated him in this moment. She just lay there with closed eyes and breathed unevenly, apparently oblivious to whether he still lived or not.

But that would change.

He pulled her panties down — and was rewarded by an instantly revived T'Pol. She lifted her lower body off the floor to encourage him, but he made it a point to take his time peeling them down her thighs. Her legs were simply too exciting to touch to hurry. After lots of unnecessary rubbing and squeezing, he reached her knees, at last pulled her panties over her calves in a swift motion, and threw them into the room carelessly. T'Pol fell back and raised her shoulders off the floor instead; she struggled to pull her top over her head — what resulted in a spectacular display of her upper body. Boy, thank god that stupid top was gone!

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T'Pol had stopped being a sentient individual. She was a creature now. Her body burned with excess heat, her skin was flushed and raw and even the slightest brush of the air set off a whirlwind of sensations between her legs. She felt him grab and massage her buttocks for what seemed to be the hundredth time tonight, and it was all _wrong_, because she wanted to be touched elsewhere! It was _so close_ that the sensations from his hands seemed to radiate right into her vagina, where they exploded into an immense, throbbing feeling of need. She wanted to feel him inside of her!

She groaned coarsely when he lifted her pelvis off the floor and jerked her closer towards him. Humiliation washed over her at the sensation of being pulled over the floor on her shoulders like an animal, like a piece of flesh. But it was nothing compared to the humiliation when her nipples reacted to the thought.

_Finally_ she felt the tip of his penis between her legs; he pushed it into her for the fraction of an inch and moved it teasingly on her inside. It drove her insane! Why was he taunting her like this? She inhaled deeply, ready to yell at him in frustration, and in this moment he rammed himself into her with a forceful movement from the hip. The impact literally crashed her back and shoulders into the floor, but that was nothing compared to what her vagina felt like now that he was inside of her. It felt as if he had ripped her open, he had unleashed emotions she couldn't possibly handle. She released the air from her lungs forcefully, like she had intended, but it didn't sound angry, it sounded like a whine.

Then she lost all control.

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The sensation was mind-blowing! T'Pol's body temperature was higher than his anyway, but right now she _burned_ him with her touch. He felt her inner muscles contract around him with inhuman strength and gasped because of the heat, because of the feeling of her intimate grip on his cock. Then she wrapped her legs around his hips, locked her feet behind his back, and held him like vice! Using her hold on him for leverage she snapped her upper body off the floor towards him and sent her chest crashing against his, toppling him over backwards with her in his arms. Trip fell flat on his back with a loud _thump_.

Before he knew it, T'Pol had grabbed his wrists and pinned them to the floor at either side of his head. He was too disoriented to even react, but when she began to gyrate her hips over his with him firmly embedded into her, he almost lost consciousness. But she wouldn't allow that and brought him back with a hungry, almost aggressive kiss. Her tongue moved in his mouth as if she owned it — and she did; he was so lost in her feel and taste that he was devoid of any will of his own in this moment. He whimpered into her mouth like a little girl when her fingernails dug into his chest harshly, all the while she increased the speed of her rhythm on him.

After that everything became blurred.

Between flashes of searing heat and desire, he saw images of themselves while they fucked. He saw himself pinching down fiercely on T'Pol's right nipple. He saw himself arching his back and groaning loudly when she clenched down her vaginal muscles and jerked her hips to the side in a sudden movement. He saw them kissing each other passionately, touching each other, scratching each other, fighting each other in a mad battle for release.

He had reached a point where he was simply ready to die. He had lost all control. And it was then that every muscle in T'Pol's body contracted at once! Out of the sudden she grabbed his head and pulled him to her, she wrapped her arms around his neck, clutched to him powerfully, and impaled herself on him with one last violent thrust, which sent them both over the edge at the same time.

The last thing Trip registered was the long drawn-out sound T'Pol made right next to his ear, and then a massive wave crashed into him from out of nowhere. The impact was very painful; it swept him off his feet and threw him around like a ball in a waterfall. He had no way to deal with it. All he could do was clutch to T'Pol and float in an ocean of bliss.

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Everything had become clear. It was ironic, but her loss of control had made her see clearly for the first time in months!

They had had sex before, but this time something had been different. This time she had had no Trellium-D to protect her control. This time she had lost it. She realized, she lay here naked in his arms and had no control at all. Her _soul_ was naked. She was weak and vulnerable like she had never been before. And it didn't bother her at all. It felt _right_.

Once she had lost control, she had _finally_ trusted him. Her instincts trusted him completely, now she knew! But why hadn't she? What had taken her so long to realize the truth? She was addicted. She was addicted to these emotions; she had only taken Trellium-D so that she could feel them while keeping up an illusion of control. But the substance had nothing to do with it — it had been the emotions Trip made her feel that she desired so much. And she still did!

The irony of it all was that her abuse of Trellium-D had now made it physically impossible to _suppress_ those emotions. She could do nothing at all; it was permanent. She had not been addicted to Trellium-D — she had been addicted to Trip. She still was. And she would be as long as she lived.

To give in to those emotions was not only the logical choice, it was her _only_ choice!

And suddenly she was scared to death. She looked at the man in her arms while these thoughts raced through her mind. Now she truly understood how much power he had over her. It was frightening!

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Trip had no idea how long they had lain like this, but it was the most wonderful feeling he could imagine. Something had been different this time. Their encounter had been so _intimate_. It had felt so right! Just the memory of her face before she came sent shivers down his body; he could have never imagined seeing her like this.

Their bodies fit and molded against another in their embrace as if they were made for that purpose. She was warm, her skin was soft on his, her whole body felt soft and feminine in his arms, and there still was that smell which evoked images of their love-making. It felt like a dream!

He knew he was bound to wake up. He knew the rules: no emotional attachment. Not that she didn't want to have one — she _couldn't_. It was against her nature. This mind-blowingly wonderful experience had been purely physical for her. He knew she liked him very much, obviously, but she would never allow herself to show it, she would not even _feel_ it. Except for these rare moments.

Yes, it was a dream.

He realized he should not have done that. He had played with fire, knowingly, and now he had been burnt. She had touched him deep on the inside, there was no defense. He had assumed he had dealt with everything, he had assumed he would be able to have sex without falling in love. He had thought he was over it. And that had been a horrible mistake. He was in _way_ over his head! And he knew he would suffer bitterly because of it.

Suddenly he was scared to death.

THE END


End file.
